Finishing this Fight
by Draknal
Summary: Those 3 words were the Chief's only reply. Story details the events of Halo 3. An interpretation.
1. Contact

Draknal: Hey! This is my first shot at makin a Halo fic. I wondered to myself, how will Halo 3 turn out? Well, using my extensive Halo knowledge, I think I may have some idea. I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labor!

Disclaimer: I don't own Halo or any of the characters that Bungie and Microsoft own the rights to. I only own what I have made up.

**Amidst it All**

"Master Chief? You mind telling me what you're doing on that ship?" the admiral asked.

After taking a second to ponder what he should tell the man, he responded, "Sir, finishing this fight."

And with that said, the transmission was ended.

"Sir, we've lost the link, what are your orders as far as the new arrival?" a lieutenant inquired while trying to pinpoint the Chief's exact location.

He was of course referring to the Forerunner ship that had just appeared out of slipstream space. The very same ship that the Master Chief had said that he was on.

Not knowing what kind of threat the new ship posed or what it was capable of made it hard for the commanding officer to come to a decision. Thinking of possible outcomes that could occur from certain orders, he made a choice.

'If the Chief is on that ship, he must have good reason for it…'

"No ships are to engage the new contact. Leave it be, but monitor its course."

The lieutenant acknowledged him with a simple nod, then sent the order not to engage to the human battleships.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alarms blared in the London military branch. All personnel were being summoned to combat status.

Captain Jon Rappart had been on day two of his two-week military leave when his break was interrupted. Grumbling, he made his way to the command center, where he was to be debriefed.

After being informed of the latest Covenant action, he went to inform his men of their orders. Apparently Covenant troops were taking up residence in several areas of the earth. One of which, happened to be located approximately 40 kilometers east of their base.

He entered the locker room where his men were suiting up. Most of them, if not all, were looking very disturbed and angry, as much so as he was when his vacation was so rudely brought to a grinding halt.

Of course, being ODST's, or Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, they weren't ever found in what was to be considered a "good" mood.

One of the Helljumpers turned to the now entering officer. "Hey Captain, what the hell is going on? I thought we had two weeks, not two days."

Other chatter began to circulate around the room about how this was the last straw for the military, and how unfair it was for their break to be cut short.

"Quit the whining ladies! I'll let you know _exactly _what's going on after I get a hold of the situation myself. For now we have orders to suit up and prep for immediate launch."

The Helljumpers, knowing better than to question orders, followed as they were told. Within fifteen minutes they were completely packed, armed, and ready for deployment.

They reported to the cruiser that was on standby. It was a newer model, practically the same as In-Amber-Clad. However, it was slightly smaller, as it was meant to be a support ship rather than a direct combat one. The name that had been given to this particular ship was Warhorse V.

Knowing that the Covenant weren't going to wait around and do nothing, they launched as soon as they were able. Warhorse V was soon airborne in Earth's stratosphere.

Captain Rappart figured that now was as good a time as any to give his men the details of their assignment. He made his way to the front of his squad and waited for them to quiet down.

"Shut the hell up and pay attention you lousy sacks of crap!" he yelled after noticing that no one was paying attention to him.

"Are we finally gonna know what this is about Captain?" one marine asked.

"I was getting to that. Now watch the screen."

Said screen, located behind the captain, began glowing. Images of ground force deployments and enemy gun turrets appeared, along with maps of the surrounding area.

"From what we can gather, the Covenant bastards are looking into some real estate here on Earth. Several locations have been chosen, but this one seems to have been fortified the most. It's _our _job to convince these fuckers that we aren't planning on selling this piece of land any time soon, by _any _means necessary."

Turning his attention to the screen, he continued on. "Now, I suppose we _could _try and be diplomatic and ask them nicely to just leave. But where's the fun in that?"

Several chuckles could be heard from marines in the room.

"Do we ask nicely for what we want from Covenant shitbags?"

He was greeted with the response of "Hell no!" from his troops.

"Or are we gonna beat them senseless and take what we want?" he asked.

"Hell yes sir!" the marines yelled.

One marine was puzzled. "Sir, this location doesn't look more than thirty to fifty kilometers away from our base. Why didn't we just take some Pelicans or some Warthogs?"

The captain had been waiting for someone to ask that question. "Good question marine. Why indeed? We could have just strolled on into this fortified location with a few LRV's," he answered gruffly.

"Oh, but wait. Maybe we didn't give you a good enough picture of the encampment," he continued sarcastically. Punching a button on the console next to the monitor, he magnified the image of the enemy fortification.

Several marines gasped, while others whistled, impressed with the Covenant's efforts.

The magnified image gave a clear view of the enemy opposition. No less than twenty Shade gun turrets were found on the perimeter of the base, as well as on upper levels of the occupied area. Sniper nests were everywhere, and the map was anything _but _void of vehicles. Three gates led into the enemies' outpost, and each had a multitude of Wraith tanks and several squads of Ghosts. Air cover was extremely thick with multiple groups of Banshees roaring overhead the enemy outpost.

Phantoms were parked everywhere on the interior of the fortification, Shadows circled the encampment, and units of Spectres accompanied them.

"Sure marine, we could stroll on in past their ground troops with ease," Rappart went on, his voice dripping with lethal sarcasm. "Or wait, even better. We could use a squad of Pelicans. I'm sure those Banshees and Shades wouldn't even _consider _shooting at us. We could just go on in, do our thing and walk out. A stroll in the park when you think about it."

The marine that had originally asked about taking Warthogs was utterly stunned at the enemy resistance in the base and didn't say another word.

"We need a way to get in without them having much time to respond. Our dropships are our best bet. We can drop in directly from overhead and they won't have much time to mount an offense. We'll be aiming for… here," Rappart went on.

The screen closed in on a tall hill in the middle of the base. It could only be accessed from one side, which was a rather steep incline from the rear. The entire front, and sides of the hill were steep cliffs. There was no chance of an enemy scaling these walls without them noticing.

"With this hill in our possession, we'll have easy sniping access to the rest of the base. A perfect bird's eye view of everything that's going on. Only problem is…" he continued. Small red dots appeared on the picture of the hill.

"The Covenant have fortified this location pretty damn well. They're thinking the same thing we are. So it's _our _job to get down there and take this away from them. They've had it long enough."

An alarm panged three times, signaling that their drop zone was approaching.

"We're Helljumpers and it's our duty to get in there before the other troops arrive and soften up the defenses… Now the question is, how will we go?"

"FEET FIRST SIR!" the marines yelled.

"You're damn right!" Rappart shouted back. "Now get to your drop pods and get ready for a bumpy ride."

The troops dispersed and went to their assigned pods. Rappart grabbed some weapons from his locker, namely his favored Twelve Gauge AP (anti-personnel) Shotgun, his M6D 2x scope Pistol, and a few fragmentation grenades. With these in hand, he went to his own drop pod, locked down, and awaited the hell that was to be lain before him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Master Chief checked his surroundings and took a moment to think up his best course of action. Had Cortana still been with him, she probably would have already come up with a plan. It wasn't until now that he realized what a luxury it was to have the AI with him.

After checking his motion sensors the Spartan made his way to what looked like an entrance to the interior of the Forerunner ship. Seeing as how the Covenant that took control of the ship had sealed it up tight, and he didn't have an AI with him to hack into the system, he'd have to open the door his _own _way.

After priming a Plasma grenade, he attached the glowing explosive to the door and took a few steps back. Seconds later an explosion sounded, and there was one less door on the ship to worry about.

Master Chief slipped inside the new opening and adjusted himself for the change in gravity. Behind him, where he entered, he heard a swish and a clang of metal. Emergency doors had sealed off the opening he had made. It looked as though there was no going back now.

The Spartan hadn't brought any weapons with him when he made his daring boarding of the ship, save for a few grenades, so it seemed that he'd have to fend for himself with what he could find.

The interior of the ship was much different than that of a Covenant Capital ship. It was metallic, but not the same kind of metal that was commonly found on Covenant technology. It was a sleek black chrome almost. And the doors were different as well. Instead of being motion sensor activated, it appeared that they were opened via hand print scanning.

'Well, so much for this being easy,' the Spartan thought. But then again, when was anything ever easy for him? Destroying the first Halo, annihilating a fleet of Covenant, was that easy? With help from a certain AI, it was easi_er, _but not easy. This was just another mission to the Master Chief, not something that needed to be contemplated, just something that had to be _done_, period.

Making his way down the hall, the Spartan kept an eye on his motion tracker. Up around a corner, there were three blips moving towards him. The familiar clanking of foot plates, and barking told the Master Chief that it was just a group of grunts, so there was little to worry about.

He pressed himself up against the very edge of the corner, waiting for his prey. Right as the grunts were about to round the corner he leapt out and threw his fist into the closest grunt's face. The grunt tumbled backwards, dropping its weapon in the process, which the Master Chief quickly picked up and made good use of.

When the first grunt went down, its two buddies freaked. The one to its left began running in circles screaming, "It's the demon! Run!"

The second grunt ran back down the hallway from which it came.

Seizing the opportunity he had, Spartan 117 deposited three plasma shots into the retreating grunt, then smashed the other grunt in the head with the butt of the plasma pistol he had picked up.

With the patrol taken care of, the Master Chief continued making his way through the Forerunner ship.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Damn Covenant, just don't know when to give it a rest, do they?" First Lieutenant Mike McCroft mumbled.

At first it had seemed as though it was going to be another boring day of training exercises and weapons inspections, but not today.

Covenant had taken up heavy residence in Europe. The military branch in London had already begun to mount an offensive, but there was only one problem… they didn't have the firepower needed to take out the fortification.

That is where McCroft and his marines came in. They were instructed to assist the attack by bringing in support weapons and heavy artillery. The troops would be airlifted in and dropped off two miles outside of the base's defenses.

From there they would mow through any Covenant son-of-a-bitch dumb enough to get in their way.

'Covenant bastards just _had _to make a base over in Europe… now I have to sit through this boring ass flight…' McCroft thought to himself.

He looked to the weapons rack that was before him. They said to be sure to pack plenty of firepower, and if there were weapons he liked, they were ones that went 'Boom'.

McCroft grabbed a Jackhammer rocket launcher and secured it to his back. Looking back to the other weapons available to him, he couldn't make up his mind on what else to take. Battle Rifles, Magnums, Shotguns, all strewn before him… What to take?

Not being able to make up his mind, he figured 'All good things come in pairs,' grabbed another Jackhammer and slung it over his right shoulder. He was ready now, and headed to his Pelican for dust-off.

Amidst the cargo of grumbling marines, McCroft heard various questions such as, 'Why are the Covenant _here _of all places? Where else did they land?' and 'Do you think we can win this time 'round?'

From what the Lieutenant had been told, the Covenant were searching for something on Earth. They didn't have any details on _what _they were looking for, just that it _was _on Earth. Ever since they discovered Earth, the Covenant had been setting up bases in areas that had some sort of importance.

Different locations in different regions of the world… what significance do those places have? Why would the Covenant go through so much trouble to take those areas?

It didn't matter to him, just as long as he got to blow up some Covenant sons' of bitches.

The Lieutenant strapped himself in and braced as the Pelican took off. His Pelican had the honor of carrying one of four Scorpion tanks. The other seven of the eleven Pelicans were carrying various Warthogs.

The Pelican McCroft was in was located at the center of the formation of airships, as were the other three pelicans with Scorpions. If _they _went down, it would be a heavy loss as opposed to losing one Warthog. Of course, losing _any _Pelican would be a terrible loss, but the destruction of a Scorpion would severely lower their chances of taking out the Covenant outpost.

'As long as those ODST's aren't dead by the time we get there…'

He put the thought behind him and concentrated on passing the time.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Looking from hall to hall, the Master Chief made an attempt to determine _where _on the Forerunner ship he was. Checking the sensors in his MJOLNIR armor, the Spartan was able to conclude that he was near the power source for the ship, as enormous energy signatures were detected behind one of the doors down the hallway he had entered.

He had prepared to blow the door open when he noticed a faint blip on his motion sensor. Rounding on his heel, the Spartan managed to get a view of his approaching enemy. Apparently when the patrol of grunts hadn't logged in, a few Brutes had been sent out to see what was keeping the inferior creatures from responding.

Sure enough, a massive Brute was charging straight for him. There wasn't much he could do with a Plasma Pistol, but he improvised. Holding down the trigger, he began to overcharge the weapon. Full overload would take a few seconds though, which the Master Chief didn't have.

Leaping to the side, the Spartan evaded the creature's first charge, but that quickly change as the beast spun around and caught him by the throat. Its hand was an inch away from his actual throat, thanks to the shields built into the Spartan's armor. However, the shield gauge began to drop at an alarming rate.

An alarm began to whine as the last of the shield depleted. The Brute's iron grip now tightened around the Chief's throat. His titanium armor and carbon-enhanced bones would only hold for so long.

A loud whirring sound was issuing forth from his right hand, which held the Plasma Pistol. It was finally charged. Using all the strength he had, the Chief raised his weapon to the Brute's face and released the trigger. He followed up by using his legs and pushing the Brute off of him with a kick to the chest.

The smell of seared flesh made the air smell foul and sickening. Fortunately, the Chief's suit filtered the air that came into his suit. He stayed focused on the task at hand, dispatching his opponent.

The Brute, although severely injured and in a great deal of pain, began swinging its arms violently and recklessly. It was hoping to hit something, anything, so long as it could vent its anger and rage.

Quickly priming his last Plasma Grenade, the Spartan leapt at the Brute and pressed the grenade to its throat, where it stuck in place. Once again pushing off from the Brute with his legs, the Chief managed to shove the Brute into a nearby door, which the Brute rebounded from and fell to the floor.

Using what speed he had, the Master Chief dove around the corner of the hallway. He was rewarded a second later with the sound of a loud explosion and a spray of red blood that coated the nearby wall.

Poking his head around the corner, the Spartan saw the mangled corpse of the unfortunate Brute, and the now-open door it had been shoved against. After checking his motion sensors and determining that it was clear, he entered what he assumed was the power room.

Two massive pillars of bluish white light streaked through the center of the circular room. The perimeter of the room was decorated with hundreds of computers and consoles.

'Cortana would be in heaven right now if she were here.'

He recalled the time on the first Halo when the AI had interfaced with the control room. She had taken in so much information that she nearly forgot about their primary objective.

The Master Chief walked over to the largest computer console and began typing away, trying to see what he could find. For not being as efficient as an AI, he made good time. He discovered that there was an AI memory block in the room. But what sense would that make? Every ship was required to keeps its main AI on the command deck, for express safety purposes.

Nonetheless, he located the spot on the console that he had been looking for. Pressing the activation switch, the small clear cube ejected from the computer. Being careful not to damage it, the Chief figured it a good idea to see what he could learn from it.

With the AI slot in his suit currently empty, he slipped the new memory block into the vacant spot. For a moment, he wondered if the block was empty, as nothing happened. As he was about to remove it, a cold feeling splashed his consciousness, and the familiar pain of another being merging with his mind overcame him.

'Hello. I am an Alpha class AI, whose designated duty is...' a female voice started.

'Great, just a standard AI...'

He knew that Cortana was by far unique, being one of the only AI's able to think for themselves, learn, and develop.

"And what is that supposed to mean? 'Just a standard AI?' I'm insulted…" the voice answered with an indignant tone.

'Calm down,' the Chief thought. 'I didn't think many AI's out there had unique personalities.'

"Well I'm not just any AI, now am I?"

The Chief knew this was going to be a problem. A female AI with her own personality… If only he had known beforehand, he wouldn't have made such a comment. Women tend to get a bit testy when "insulted".

'Listen, I didn't mean it, okay? I'm sorry, just a misunderstanding.' He hadn't known the AI for more thank five minutes and here he was apologizing to her already.

"Hmph, maybe I don't feel like talking to someone so _rude _right now," the AI went on.

"You know what, I'm tired of this. I don't have time to waste arguing right now, or trying to make up for an honest mistake. I'll just put you back into the terminal," the Spartan spoke roughly in a commanding tone.

He reached back and prepared to eject the AI memory block.

"Whoa! Don't get hasty here. I don't _want _to go back into that system."

"Then would you mind telling me exactly who you are?" the Chief questioned.

After letting out a sigh, the AI started from the beginning. "I am an Alpha class AI designed to handle several processing requests of any class. An all purpose AI you might say. My designated name was Xandria."

"What is an AI of your level doing down here in the power center? Shouldn't you be in the command center, running this ship?"

"For the longest time I _was _on the command bridge, monitoring this dormant ship. Then those 'Covenant' guys came and replaced me with one of their AI's. They said something about it being easier to take command with one of their AI's. They put me down in the power center and cut off my access to the rest of the ship."

"But now that _you're _here, I can finally get out of this place. Ya know, this is my first time interfacing with a human directly. I didn't know anyone had this kind of technology. Even the 'Forerunners' as you call them, didn't have that capability."

"Glad you're impressed, but we have other matters to attend to. Do you have the schematics for this ship?"

After processing the request the AI responded with, "Yeah, just brought em up. What do you need them for, um… what am I supposed to call you?"

"Master Chief is fine. Chief for short," he answered simply.

"Right, well Chief where do you need to get on this ship?"

"The command deck. I have some issues to discuss with a certain Prophet..."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Commencing drop in three… two… one…"

'Here we go,' Rappart thought as he braced for release.

The pod he was in suddenly lurched, then began to fall smoothly through the Earth's skies.

The AI that had been assigned to the group, Heinrich, briefed the troopers on the status as they descended.

"So far we can determine that only half of the enemy occupants are on alert. We seem to have caught them at a bad time, which is good for you. You have yet to be detected, but that will only last for a few more seconds."

"You wanna stick to giving us _good _news?" Rappart gruffly asked the AI.

Being the smart-ass that the AI was, it responded with, "Sure, with the current enemy deployments set against the number of our troops dropping in, at least one fifth of you should survive."

Silence reigned for a second, before the Heinrich started to chuckle.

"Don't worry sir, I only broadcasted that to your pod. Besides, your odds for survival are much better than that, by at least another eighth."

The Captain felt no need to respond to that.

'Well, looks like we'll have to be at the top of our game then.'

"Hmm… that's rather strange," the AI noted.

"What?"

"From what I can detect, there don't seem to be any Elites anywhere among their ranks."

"Yeah, that is pretty strange. Usually those prong-mouthed bastards are leading the fight. Well, that'll make our job _that _much easier."

The pods began to shudder as they encountered greater air resistance from reaching terminal velocity. It would only be a matter of time until the chutes deployed.

After sitting through what seemed like hours of bumpy freefall, the pods lurched once again as the primary parachutes deployed.

"We will hit ground in twenty seconds and counting," Heinrich announced.

No sooner had the AI made his announcement, the enemy reacted. A red light in each pod went off, signaling that enemy fire was coming their way.

Sure enough, the Shade gun emplacements were firing at the oncoming pods. However, since there were only Grunts manning them, the shots were terrible. At the rate the pods were moving, the shots were too slow to hit them at the right moment.

Although when the pods hit the ground it would be a different story. Those turrets would rip the troopers to shreds if they weren't dealt with immediately.

"Ten seconds until landfall," Heinrich informed the troopers.

Each Helljumper had been trained for the worst, yet none of them could shake the feeling that this would be a hell of a different fight. Each person was nervous, but ready to fight to the death nonetheless.

"Landfall in three… two… one… impact!"

-End Chapter-

Draknal: Well, I figured I'd start us out with a cliffy! Please don't have me for that. I'd appreciate it if I could get a few reviews on this, as it would encourage me to work harder.

R&R PLEASE!!

The next chapter should be out in a max of 2 weeks!


	2. Hold Your Ground!

Draknal: This has got the be the record for my quickest update ever! I was a bit disappointed at first with the results from the last chapter, _but _I did get one review. Thanks to that one review, I had the inspiration to continue writing! So to Dagon90 I say, thank you. Oh and that review made me feel quite giddy with excitement after reading it, so I really appreciate it! I will try not to disappoint you.

Now, on with the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Halo or its characters. I only own the plot of this story and any characters of my own creation.

**Hold Your Ground**

-Last time-

"Ten seconds until landfall," Heinrich informed the troopers.

Each Helljumper had been trained for the worst, yet none of them could shake the feeling that this would be a hell of a different fight. Each person was nervous, but ready to fight to the death nonetheless.

"Landfall in three… two… one… impact!"

-Now-

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Each pod came to an _immediate _halt upon crashing into the Earth.

Rappart's pod managed to nail one unfortunate Grunt, crushing it where it stood before it had the chance to run.

The doors jettisoned off, and each trooper came out guns blazing.

The enemies, mostly Grunts, Jackals, and Brutes, fired back. The fight had begun, and neither side had the thought of giving up or backing down.

Rappart stepped out of his pod, onto the door that had fired off. A Jackal had been caught off guard, waiting for the door to raise so it could gun down the cargo inside. However, the door launched off, and pinned the miserable creature to the ground, crushing it from the neck down.

Its head poked out from the top of the door. It was screeching in pain and trying to writhe around.

The Captain took the shotgun he was carrying from off of his shoulder and pointed it straight at the Jackal's head.

"Let me help you with that," he growled before pulling the trigger.

A splash of bluish blood sprayed everywhere, along with the innards of the Jackal's head.

Plasma bolts zoomed past the human officer, and he dove behind his pod for cover.

A Shade gun turret had him pinned down and he didn't plan on moving until it had been neutralized.

Searing bolts of energy slammed into the pod's armor, melting the metal in the places where it was hit.

Looking at his Holo-NAV in front of his right eye, he monitored his current troop placements.

Opening up a com-channel, he began giving orders.

"Freign, put a hole in the bastard's head that's shootin at me."

"Affirmative sir," came the answer from the other end.

First Lieutenant Richard "Dead-Eye" Freign, brought his Sniper Rifle to bear. Like his commanding officer, he too had taken refuge behind his pod. _His _location gave him a perfect view of the Shade turret that was pinning his superior down.

As soon as the aiming reticule turned red, he pulled the trigger. The shot flew true and the unfortunate Grunt was sent flipping through the air from the force of the bullet, dead upon impact.

When the Captain noticed that the plasma fire had stopped, he leapt out from behind his pod and joined in the fight. Now he was able to get a better feel for the situation.

Out of the eight Shade guns that had been mounted on the hilltop, six still remained.

Jackals had slowly been advancing on the Helljumpers, whose numbers still held strong.

Bullets rained down on the bird like creatures, but the energy shields they carried took the brunt of the attack and they pressed on forward.

Several Grunts with Needlers opened fire. A few unfortunate troopers were struck by the energy charged crystal projectiles. Seconds later, the needles exploded. They were sustaining losses now…

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seizing a shield unit from one of the nearby downed Jackals, Rappart slipped it onto his left arm and charged forward towards the line of Grunts. He knew his ballistic armor would only offer so much protection, so he had to make this count.

Pressing the button on the shield generator, a bright blue light ushered forth and created a circular protective barrier in front of him. A meter came up on his Holo-NAV. It was marked as full right now. Hopefully it would _stay _that way.

"Freign, Lavert, Bevard, give me some cover fire!" he barked into the com-system.

Private Zac Lavert, using a Jackal's body as a "human shield", threw the dead creature down and dashed over to where Freign had chosen to "camp".

Bringing his Battle Rifle to head level, he began spraying groups of Grunts. With inhuman speed he managed to headshot most of the moronic Covenant underlings.

Grunts, after seeing so many of their brothers go down, began dropping their weapons and running. The line of Grunts was effectively being broken.

Freign began sniping the Jackals who had left just a _smidge _of their body open. The small indentions in the middle side area of their shields left them unprotected from the deadly sniper.

Second Lieutenant Chris Bevard had un-holstered his second Magnum and was firing every bullet available to him.

After ducking behind the cover of his pod, he reloaded, then jumped out and charged.

This was the last thing the Jackals had been expecting.

The group of Jackals turned their shields towards the charging Lieutenant, leaving their flank open for sniping.

Two Jackals were too slow to turn and were met with Magnum bullets to the head.

Lieutenant Bevard could see the green glow of overcharged Plasma Pistols from behind the shields of the Jackals. This was going to be close…

Rappart, seeing his chance to do some damage, rolled forward so that he was behind the line of Jackals. Bringing his shotgun up, he decapitated the first Jackal with ease, removing its arms, chest area, well… everything. At point blank range, putting your arm up for cover from a shotgun isn't going to do much good.

The other Jackals were too busy concentrating on Bevard to worry about one of their downed comrades.

The line of Jackals released the Plasma charges that had been stored up. Twelve balls of energy shot off in the direction of Lieutenant Bevard.

As soon as he saw the shots fire, Bevard dove forward, meeting the ground. This maneuver would prove to save his life. Ten energy bolts zoomed over him, but the other two did not.

One skimmed the left side of his armor, searing off a good portion of it and leaving some badly burned skin. The other shot struck him on his right shoulder, burning clean through the armor and skin.

After yelling in pain, the trooper stayed down, hoping to avoid any direct combat.

Rappart had seen enough. After Bevard went down, he shoved the shotgun into the back of another Jackal and fired. Before the Jackal's body hit the ground, Rappart brought the butt of his weapon up and crushed the head of the next Jackal.

Dropping the shotgun for the moment, he pulled up his sidearm. With three quick bursts, his M6D pistol made short work of three more Jackals.

By this time the remaining Jackals had moved to retaliate against the Captain. Rappart's fist had made contact with one of their shields. After knocking the shield to the side, he pistol whipped the Jackal, then fired two shots into its skull.

The Jackals fired at the Captain, who brought up the shield he had stolen earlier. He staggered backwards slightly, and looked to his Holo-NAV. The shield's strength was half way depleted. It turned from a light blue color to a dark yellow. At least it had saved him that time 'round…

Freign, seeing an opportunity to do some real damage, brought up his rifle again. Giving off a succession of sniper rounds, he managed to take down three more Jackals.

Private Lavert made his way to his downed superior officer. Putting his arm under Bevard's left shoulder, he helped the man up and took him over behind the cover that the drop pods offered.

Pulling out the med kit that every Helljumper was issued, he grabbed the filler bio-foam and sprayed it into the Lieutenant's wounds. The foam quickly closed up the injuries, but he would need to be airlifted if he were to be expected to survive. Too much blood had been lost and he'd need immediate medical attention.

After making sure that Bevard was okay, Lavert went back to his position and began peppering the remaining enemies with his Battle Rifle.

Only two Shade turrets were still firing upon the ODST's, but soon they had more trouble…

"Sir, we have enemy air units coming this way. Possibility of Phantoms," Heinrich informed Captain Rappart.

Sure enough, several air units streaked through the sky. A group of six banshees and two Phantoms made their way towards the Helljumpers.

So far, the troopers had lost twelve out of their fifty personnel, and three were critically injured.

Plasma fire reigned down on the human special forces. Then six shots rang out from six separate fuel rod cannons. The banshees then circled around for another attack.

"Someone get a launcher on those Phantoms!" Rappart shouted into his com-link.

The first Phantom evened out and began dropping troops.

From the ship, twelve Grunts, two Hunters, and four Brutes descended onto the battlefield.

One trooper managed to get the Jackhammer rocket launcher from his pod. Taking careful aim, he fired the 102mm projectile straight into the drop area on the vulnerable underbelly of the Phantom.

The ship shuddered violently, then lurched to the side, colliding with the other Phantom which was trying to drop troops. Both Ships came crashing into the ground. But before the Helljumpers could begin celebrating, Fuel Rod blasts and grenades from Brute Shots began raining down on the troopers.

Freign, being the careful sniper that he was, concentrated on taking out the last two Shade turrets, which he did with ease. He then turned his attention to the newly arrived troops.

'Hunters are a no-go, not with all of that armor,' he decided. 'But those Brutes look like nice meaty targets.

One Brute in particular, who was preparing to throw a Plasma Grenade, was a _perfect _target. Raising his rifle, the Lieutenant hit the creature square in the head.

The Grunt that was standing next to the Brute looked up just in time to see its superior's head explode. The bullet went in directly through its face, smashed into the back of the helmet that the Brute had on, and kept on going.

But what of the Plasma Grenade? It dropped from the Brute's grasp and landed on the Grunt that had watched it die. Upon having the grenade attach to its face, the Grunt began running around screaming, "Get it off of me!"

Seconds later the Grunt exploded in a ball of blue plasma.

The Hunter's wasted no time in making their way towards the human forces. Letting out loud roars, the Hunters spread the razor-sharp spines on their backs out to their sides.

One Helljumper who had attempted to take the Hunters on, being unable to run for cover, was unceremoniously cut down by the spines, then finished off by a large metal foot which came slamming down on the unfortunate trooper.

Bullets had little or not effect on the Hunters, as their armor was much too thick to allow any serious damage. They charged onward, shots from their Fuel Rod guns flying through the air.

Two unfortunate Helljumpers were struck by Fuel Rod shots, leaving gaping holes in their midsections. Needless to say, they did not survive. The strength of the Hunters was not something to be contended with.

Using the massive shields strapped to their arms, the Hunters began bashing drop pods, toppling them over. Every now and then, the shields made contact with a trooper, whose body was crushed from the sheer force.

"I want someone to get a Jackhammer and take those guys out!" Rappart barked.

The Helljumper with the rocket launcher had been taken out by stray Fuel Rod shots, so someone was going to have to retrieve one.

The pods with heavy armaments were clear across the hilltop. For the time being, the surviving ODST's had made a defensive line behind a make-shift bunker of overturned drop pods.

"Lavert, get your ass over their and get us some launchers! We'll give you some cover fire!" Rappart shouted.

He was a perfect candidate, being the lightest and quickest out of all of the troopers. If anyone could make it, it was him.

Lavert, after taking a deep breath, sprinted with all of his might towards the designated pods.

"Give his ass some cover!" Rappart roared.

All 25 remaining ODST's brought up their weapons, and opened fire. Battle Rifles, Sniper Rifles, Magnums, and SMG's all lit up the area.

Hunters bounded through the barrage without even flinching. The Brutes and Grunts weren't so lucky. Grunts went down after being hit once, but the Brutes took the bullets and kept coming. Eventually though, after losing enough blood, the Brutes collapsed.

Lavert ran as fast as he could. The drops pods grew ever closer, but the Banshees flying air cover had no intention of letting him reach them.

The six airships descended towards the Private, firing their twin plasma cannons. Searing plasma rained down all around the trooper, but he kept on running.

Freign took notice of how the Banshees had their backs to the Helljumpers' defensive line. Zooming in on one of the middle banshees, he could see a pair of Brute legs sticking out.

'Like shooting fish in a barrel,' he thought before pulling the trigger.

The armor-piercing bullet went straight through the Brute's backside, all the way into its skull. The Banshee it had been piloting until that point, began to spiral out of control, and smashed into the Banshee directly to its right.

The two ships came crashing down in a mass of twisted flaming wreckage. However, it was at this point in time that the Lieutenant cursed his luck, having depleted his ammunition for his rifle. He'd have to find some more in another pod when the fighting died down.

Putting his rifle off to the side, he picked up two SMG's and joined the other marines in giving "cover fire".

After losing two of their units, the Banshees broke formation and began pursuing targets individually, rather than as a group, making it harder for them to be taken out.

Panting and out of breath, Lavert dove into the pod, which contained several heavy arms weapons. He strapped one rocket launcher to his back, and took a second one in his arms. Getting to the pod had been no big deal, but getting back… that was going to be hell.

He had to move quickly though, as the Hunters were almost upon the other Helljumpers.

After confirming that the troopers had reloaded their weapons and were ready to once again give cover fire, Lavert counted to three, then ran for his life once again.

One of the Hunters had taken notice of the black armor clad fighter by himself, making a run for the others. He had no intention of letting him accomplish his goal.

After grunting to its partner, it broke off from its charge and moved for Private Lavert. It was careful to keep its back from being vulnerable though, so its efforts would not be in vain.

Taking careful aim, the Hunter fired a shot from the Fuel Rod cannon attached to its arm. Lavert, busy running for all that he held dear, failed to take notice of the shot which had now reached its maximum height in the air, and was now descending.

"He's not gonna make it," Captain Rappart said out loud. Without another word, the Helljumper leader leapt out from behind the line of pods and began running towards Lavert.

As soon as he began running, he brought his newly retrieved shotgun to bear and activated the shield generator on his arm. He watched as the circular shield extended out from the portable generator once more. It had recharged to only about three quarters of its maximum gauge though. Three quarters would have to do.

'Great, he's too weighted down to move that fast, he's got Fuel Rod coming in, and now there's a Hunter on his ass… I'm supposed to be on vacation now God damnit!'

Lavert could tell something was wrong. The air around him began crackling, burning. Looking up, he saw what was meant to be his death, a large green glob of Fuel Rod shot, heading his way.

'Oh shit… Oh shit… Just keep running!' he frantically thought.

The mass of energy fell slightly behind the Helljumper, causing an explosion to send up a mass of earth, launching the trooper in the process. A cloud of dust billowed up, covering the immediate area.

'Shit, you better not have died on me kid…' Rappart thought as he double-timed it to the spot where the shot had landed.

Thanks to his helmet the dust that was kicked up was not choking Lavert. But it _did _make it hard to determine what was going on. The cloud began to clear though, and he could make out a large shadow moving towards him.

After a Banshee flew through the dust, the cloud dissipated and Lavert could see clearly again. The large shadow turned out to be the Hunter… which was rapidly approaching.

Bringing up its Fuel Rod cannon, the Hunter fired a shot right at the Helljumper. There was no way in hell his ballistic armor would save him from this.

Before the shot could make contact with the trooper, Captain Rappart dashed in front of Lavert.

He knew it might kill him, but he'd rather be the one dead than the guy that was ensuring the survival of the rest of the troopers.

The Jackal's shield he had taken earlier took the brunt of the impact, and managed to absorb the Hunter's attack. The generator overloaded from taking such a tremendous blow and exploded. The force of the Hunter's attack knocked the Captain back, where he tumbled backwards on the ground until his body came to a stop.

The Hunter kept right on charging.

"You son of a bitch!" Lavert yelled.

He pulled up the launcher in his hands and fired. Although it was a reckless and terrible attempt, the projectile made contact with the Hunter's chest plate, then detonated.

The Hunter toppled backwards, then died, its innards falling out of the large hole that had been blown open on its body.

Lavert made his way over to the Captain, after making sure that no other enemies were upon him.

"You okay Cap?" he asked as he helped the man up.

"Yeah, I'll live. I'm just sore as hell."

He discarded the shield generator, being of no more use to him, and made his way back to the other ODST's with Lavert.

Seeing its bond brother die enraged the second Hunter. As soon as its partner went down, it ceased its charge and began to fire wildly at the troopers' line of defense.

Some shots hit the defenders, while others were _way _off. Three more leatherbacks had fallen to those attacks from the Hunter. It was time for some payback.

One launcher was handed over to Freign, who was definitely the best marksman among the group, and the other was given to Lieutenant Bevard, who with some help, was able to manage the weapon in his injured state.

Rappart issued his orders. Freign was to do some Banshee demolition, and Bevard was to take out the Hunter.

After taking aim, Bevard fired the rocket at the hulking mass that was the enraged Hunter.

Said Hunter, too busy firing randomly, was hit dead on with the rocket. A fountain of orange blood erupted from the now headless creature, whose body fell forward and then lay motionless.

Lieutenant Freign, being as accurate as he was, managed to take out the four Banshees with ease. The fighting was now done, and the Helljumpers had won. The hill was now under their control.

Out of the fifty troopers that had landed, only eighteen of them remained. The question now was… could they hold that position until reinforcements arrived?

-End Chapter-

Draknal: Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I worked long and hard on it, so hopefully my effort paid off. As for the Chief, we'll see what happens with him next chapter. And what of the Arbiter?! Don't worry, he is also brought up later on. Just stay tuned for the next exciting installment of "Finishing this Fight!". I always wanted to say that... heh.

R&R Please! Give me a reason to type!


	3. Giving Chase

Draknal: Alright, it's time for chapter three! I am glad to see that I got another review. It only serves to make me work harder.

Disclaimer: I don't own Halo or its characters, just the plot of this story and the characters I make up.

**Giving Chase**

"Where? Where would someone go to activate the other rings?" asked Commander Miranda Keyes.

The Monitor seemed to tilt to the side, impersonating the human characteristic of puzzlement. "Why, the Ark, of course," it replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"And where, Oracle, is that?" the silver armor clad Elite known as the Arbiter inquired.

The blue light in the Monitor flickered as it summoned large universal maps. The holo-system in the room kicked in and the maps were strewn about its entirety. The span of what the Forerunners knew as the universe was now displayed around the room's occupants.

Systems and planets they had never seen before flashed and danced around the room. Then the map seemed to close in on a certain cluster of planets and stars, and continued zooming in. It eventually stopped dead center on a large blue and green planet, orbited by one moon.

"My creators decided that this location would be best for the construction of the Ark. It is located in the center of the area that the various ring installations orbit, quite ideal for relaying the activation signal."

The inhabitants of the room, or at least the human ones, gasped in surprise.

"Johnson, is that?" Keyes started.

"Son of a bitch…" was all Sergeant Johnson could say. Never in his military career had he been shown something _this _shocking before.

It was Earth. The "Ark", as it was called, was located on Earth. The one thing more devastating than Halo, the _control _for _every _Halo, was located on the planet that the humans called home.

Commander Keyes wasted no time in taking action. "Monitor, can you make a copy of that data?"

"Certainly Reclaimer." The Monitor of installation 05 began copying and processing the requested data.

The Arbiter eyed the planet closely. "Exactly what planet is this human?"

"It's none of your damn business prong-mouth, that's what it is," Johnson growled.

"Johnson, that's enough. Right now we owe our lives to this Elite and his comrades," Keyes interrupted.

The Arbiter looked away from the humans, "I don't deserve such a title, what you call 'Elite'. I am a disgrace to my race…"

"And what do you mean by that?" Keyes inquired.

After taking a deep breath, the Elite began his explanation. "I was the Commander that oversaw the operations on the first 'Halo'," he informed them.

"My loss was unacceptable and many of my men were killed. Their lives were sacrificed because of the ambition of the Prophets. I was too blind to see what was really going on, and in that respect I am a failure."

He was of course referring to the betrayal of the Elites by the Prophets and the Brutes. Many of his brethren had been slaughtered, including the council members, at the hands of the Brutes. Such a thing was unbearable to the soldier. He figured that if he had been able to see what the 'Prophets' were planning, he wouldn't have gone through with the operations on the first Halo.

The white-armored Elite Commander entered the room. The Arbiter knew who it was, not just because of his armor, but because of the lack of one of his mouth appendages.

"Arbiter-- No, that name and that armor do not suit you anymore. You are no longer a tool of the Prophets, those false leaders of the Covenant. What is your real name? The Elite name you inherited long before the incident with Halo," the Commander asked.

"It has been so long since I have been called by that name, I can almost not remember it anymore," the Arbiter responded regretfully. "It was Zev 'Zekamee, before the Prophets stripped me of it and my rank."

(A/N: Remember, just because you beat the games in a matter of hours doesn't mean that _that _was how long it was in _their _time! These events were pretty far apart!)

The Elite Commander, known as Trey 'Tulsaney, continued his talk with the Arbiter. "That was a mistake made by the ones we believed to be our leaders, not you. You are an Elite, and these soldiers, your troops, would not still be alive had it not been for you," he pointed out as he looked around the room from one Elite soldier to the next.

"Look not on the past, but to the present. Do not dwell on the past, or else you will be destroyed by it. You are a proud, powerful warrior, now act like it!" Trey commanded.

The one known before as the Arbiter, Zev 'Zekamee, looked up at the Commander. He was right. That past was one of darkness, where he followed orders blindly. It wasn't until he had become the Arbiter that he had truly begun following his own will.

Commander Keyes watched the exchange between the two Elites. Compassion, trust, and honor, such traits made the alien warriors seem almost human. It was hard to fathom that the creatures in front of her now were once thought of as heartless barbarians. Boy did this prove her original thoughts wrong.

"As sweet as this is," Johnson began, "We have more important shit to worry about, like how to get off this ring!"

Trey turned to the human known as Johnson. "That should not be a problem. Many of our Capital Ships are standing by, awaiting my command. Getting off this ring is nothing to be worried about. We can reach the Ark in a matter of hours."

"We don't need help from you Covenant-"

"That's enough Johnson!" Keyes shouted. "We're going to need their help as much as they'll need ours. Or have you forgotten that _In Amber Clad_ was scrapped in High Charity? We have no way off this ring by ourselves."

Grumbling, Johnson agreed. They would need to once again cooperate with the Covenant, or at least _this part _of the Covenant, the part that consisted of the Elites and the few Hunters and Grunts that were loyal to them.

Commander Keyes turned her attention back to the Elite known as Zev. "That planet is Earth, home planet of all humans."

Commander Miranda Keyes had just divulged the most well guarded secret of any UNSC personnel to what was once thought to be their enemy. But now, the Elites and their followers were no longer interested in killing the humans, or eradicating them from existence.

That was a pointless command issued by the Prophets, which they blindly followed. Humans were given the traits of being evil, relentless, and a threat to their "Great Journey". The Elites knew better now…

Trey and Zev, along with their crew of current Elites, had not been part of the scout force that had found Earth, and the Prophets never gave them any intel on the Prophet of Regret's blunder.

"Very well," Trey started. "If that is where the Prophet of Truth has gone, then that is where we must follow. His treachery will never be forgiven or forgotten."

Looking to his Lieutenants, few of which were present, Trey gave them their orders. "Load up what we can and make preparations to head to Earth. I want all available troops combat ready."

With a bow, the Lieutenants departed and set out to complete their tasks.

Commander Keyes took control of her men as well. "Alright, all troops prepare for departure. It looks like we're heading to Earth. Fall in and listen up!"

The few marines that had survived the conflict on installation 05 gathered around their leader. Many were a bit jittery, being so close to Covenant soldiers and all, and _not _having to fight them.

"We'll be cooperating with these Covenant troops and going back to Earth. Right now, if we don't work together, we might as well say goodbye to all life in this universe. Gather up what you can and follow me. No one is to fire a weapon, _understood?_"

All the marines nodded, including Johnson. What a strange day this was turning out to be. First they had to work with the Elites to kill Tartarus, and now they had to work with them to get back to Earth.

Trey walked over to the human gathering and summoned forth Commander Keyes.

"You and your marines will accompany Zev and myself on my Capital Ship," he told her. "No matter how loyal my troops may be to me, they might not fully understand that you humans, and my soldiers are under an alliance now. They might still have itchy trigger fingers. I don't want any mishaps."

Keyes nodded her consent. "I think that might be for the best."

The white armored Elite went back to his group afterwards, then went off to make his own preparations.

As Keyes was preparing to leave as well, Sergeant Johnson pulled her off to the side.

"Commander, I got a bad feeling about this. Are you sure it's safe to be taking these Covenant freaks to Earth?" he inquired.

"Sergeant, these 'freaks' may be the only chance we have at stopping the Prophet of Truth," she argued.

"But how do we know they aren't trying to trick us just to get to Earth. What if they're just waiting for the right time to slit our throats?"

"Look around you Johnson, they clearly outnumber us, and have better technology than we do. They could have killed us a long way back. And if their job was to get to Earth, the other Covenant forces already _at _Earth would have sent them the coordinates by now."

"Sorry ma'am, I just can't get used to fighting alongside 'em after fighting them for so many years…" Johnson added.

"Understood Sergeant. Now get your men ready, we're in for one hell of a fight when we get to Earth."

The marines departed for the newly docked Capital Ships soon after.

Using a gravity lift, the humans were brought aboard Trey's Capital Ship, known as the _Ever Vigilant. _Keyes and Johnson reported to the command bridge, where Trey and Zev awaited them.

Once they had arrived, Trey clicked a button on the holo-panel in front of him, then began to speak. His voice boomed through the sound system in every Capital Ship.

"The times we have entered are dark ones indeed. We have been betrayed, deceived by those who we once thought were our true leaders, the 'Prophets'. There is no 'Great Journey', it was a lie… a lie concocted by those who wish to attain power. We were used as mere pawns to do their dirty work. We must avenge those who fell in the name of the Prophets and their twisted intent!"

"To do so, we must work with those that we once called our mortal enemies. It was thanks to them, the humans, that we were shown the truth behind the 'Holy Rings', behind Halo. Had we not been shown, we would have been sacrificed by those 'Prophets', tossed aside and discarded."

After stopping to consider what else must be said, he went on. "We now journey to the human home world, Earth. It is there that we will make our stand against the Prophet of Truth and the Brutes that so easily stabbed us in the back! If the humans fall, then so do we. It is together that we must stand, or alone we will fall… Are we really going to let our brothers die in vain? No! We will fight, and we will win! Alongside the humans, we will finish this conflict!"

A loud roar of approval could be heard on every Capital Ship.

To give the humans a sense of security, he added, "And on this voyage, if a single human is harmed, I will _personally _skin the ones responsible."

To this, the marines all cheered, and felt a little safer knowing that someone like that was in command of the Covenant forces they'd be fighting alongside.

With the speech out of the way, Commander Keyes approached the holo-console and input the coordinates for Earth. Trey made sure that the coordinates had been given to the three other Capital Ships as well.

"Prepare for jump to slipstream space!" Trey announced.

Three blue lights flashed on the holo-console, signaling that the other ships were ready as well.

'So,' Zev thought, 'Earth… and the Prophet of Truth. It's all going to come to a close…'

"On my mark then," Trey began, "Three… two… one… mark!"

As soon as said word was heard, all four Capital Ships jumped into slipstream space, leaving vacant the space they once took up.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Following the route he had been given by his newly acquired AI, the Master Chief made his way through the interior of the Forerunner ship.

As he neared the area marked as the Command Bridge, he wondered why the enemy resistance had dropped all of a sudden. It was almost as if they were _letting _him get that far.

Checking both sides of the hallway, the Master Chief primed his Plasma Pistol, and opened the door. Inside, at the very center of the Command Deck, sat the Prophet of Truth.

Seeing that his "guest" had arrived, the Prophet gave him his full attention.

"So, you have arrived. I was wondering when I would get to meet the terrible 'Demon'."

The other aliens in the room hadn't moved. They remained at their stations, acting as if no one, especially not the feared Spartan, champion of Earth, had entered the room.

Keeping his weapon pointed at the Prophet, he approached the being. "Call off your attack Truth. It's over for you."

Chuckling, the Prophet turned to a nearby holo-panel. "I'm afraid you are mistaken human. This is only the beginning of the Great Journey, and no one, not even _you_, will jeopardize it."

"You're in no position to stop me from gunning you down where you sit Truth. All I have to do is release this trigger and your reign is over."

"It's not _that _easy, human," the Prophet chuckled as he activated a section of the holo-panel.

The chief released the trigger on his weapon and watched as a green ball of energy launched from the pistol. However, it didn't have the desired effect, and was met with resistance from a shield which shimmered in front of the Prophet.

In an instant the Master Chief was forced to the floor by some unseen force. The systems in his suit began going haywire and several alert warning systems began wailing in his helmet. Soon, one by one various parts of the suit began shutting down.

Two Brutes were on him in a matter of seconds. The first seized his weapon, and the second grabbed the Master Chief and threw a massive fist into his face, knocking the Spartan out. He then hoisted him up into the air and carried him out of the room.

Watching the Spartan get hauled out of the room, the Prophet muttered a few last words to him. "The Great Journey waits for no one."

Spartan 117 was deposited unceremoniously into a room near the very back of the ship. The Brute that had been carrying the Master Chief walked outside of the room, then pressed a few switches on the panel next to the room.

"Ugh… what the…?" the now waking Spartan mumbled. It appeared as though his suit had rebooted itself and was functioning once again. The only problem was that he was unaware of his current location.

"It would seem that your suit was hit by a powerful magnetic force and its systems crashed," commented the AI in the Chief's helmet.

A mechanical voice rang out from a nearby com speaker.

"Sector 24-C will now be quarantined from the rest of the ship. Prepare for immediate detachment."

"What in the-? Xandria, you have any idea what the hell it's talking about?"

After a moment of slight hesitation, the AI chuckled nervously. "Well, I kinda forgot to tell you about that…"

Raising an eyebrow, the Chief inquired, "Tell me about _what?_"

"Um, Forerunner ships were designed with these creatures called the Flood in mind. The Flood are-"

"I already know all about the Flood," the Master Chief interrupted. "Get to the point."

"If any Flood were ever to stow away on a ship, the Forerunners could detect it, isolate the threat, then detach the quarantined section, that way there was no chance for the Flood to spread."

"Well isn't that wonderful…" the Chief mused.

The room lurched, and a metallic groan could be heard coming from the ship.

Seconds later, the section gave way and began to float freely about space. The Forerunner ship, along with the Prophet of Truth, was going to get to Earth. And what could the Chief do about it? Nothing at the moment.

Clicking on a com channel, the Master Chief tried to make contact with human forces. "This is Spartan 117, is anyone reading me?"

After moments of static, a voice came over the com link. "This is Echo 142, Master Chief is that you?"

"Affirmative. I need an immediate pickup. Sector 12, coordinates alpha 15, delta 32."

"Roger that Master Chief, I'll be there as soon as I can. It might take a while with all of the Covenant fighters flying around up here."

Indeed Echo 142 was not lying. With the Forerunner ship, Covenant Capital Ships had arrived and wasted no time in deploying their Seraph fighters. Plasma bolts, MAC shells, and shrapnel, along with wreckage, lay about the vastness of space.

Maneuvering carefully, Echo 142 eventually arrived in the designated pickup area. However, the Master Chief was nowhere in sight.

"Chief, are you sure you have the right coordinates? All I see is some wreckage and what appears to be a large, black chunk of debris. It's shaped kind of like a massive cube."

"That's it. I have no way of getting out of it, so I'm going to need you toblow it open. Your M10 rocket pods should take care of it."

The Pelican Pilot agreed, but very reluctantly. "Okay Chief, firing in three, two, one, now!"

A barrage of rockets launched from the Pelican's wing-mounted pods. Each impact with the section of Forerunner ship knocked the Chief around a considerable amount. After the explosions died away, Echo 142 looked around for the Chief. Sure enough, the Spartan had already taken advantage of the newly opened door.

Being sure to isolate and seal off the cockpit from the rest of the ship, the pilot depressurized the rest of the Pelican and allowed the Chief to enter via the loading ramp.

Once inside, the Master Chief took a seat on one of the benches in the cargo hold of the Pelican.

"So Master Chief, you need to get somewhere?" the pilot asked.

"Yeah, Earth, and fast."

Gunning the engines, the Pelican's pilot began making his descent for Earth. "You got it Chief. I'll have us there in no time."

'And what are you going to do when you get to Earth?' Xandria asked.

'I'm going to stop Truth, plain and simple.'

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

After the battle for the hill, Captain Rappart and his men began preparing for the inevitable Covenant counter-offensive to retake the hill.

Rappart had been sure to go around to each of the KIA's and collect their dog tags, lest they be forgotten, and their efforts go to waste. He had been trying to establish contact with HQ, or _any _spare human forces at the moment. He had little luck in doing so, as the only thing heard over the radio was combat chatter, and static.

He had just about given up on getting any reinforcements.

"Sir, we got something on the hotbox!" Private Lavert informed his superior. "It's Admiral Hood!"

Rappart walked over to the radio and took the mic. "This is Rappart."

"So, you're still alive, good to know. What's the situation down there?" came the Admiral's voice.

"Well sir, everything's gone to hell in a hand basket," Rappart reported. "I've lost all but seventeen of my men, and Second Lieutenant Bevard was hit pretty badly. I could sure as hell use some reinforcements down here. And if it's not asking too much, I need a Pelican for immediate EVAC of wounded."

"Denied. We can't spare any men right now Captain. And a Pelican is out of the question. One Pelican has no hope of getting in there, _and _getting out intact. Hold it as best you can. Out."

Gripping the mic tightly, the Captain slammed it down on the ground. "Son of a bitch!"

'How the hell does he expect us to maintain this position? We're low on manpower, and we don't have any long term med supplies…'

After a belch of static, the radio clicked over to the Admiral's voice once again. "Scratch that Captain, it seems as though I _can _spare some reinforcements. They should arrive within the next hour."

Then the line went dead.

"Yeah, if we can last that long…" the Captain muttered.

Walking over to a few overturned drop pods, which had been turned into a makeshift med station, Rappart inspected the wounded.

'Three of my Helljumpers and one officer injured, thirteen combat ready, the rest KIA… we're in some deep shit now…'

Even if they were somehow able to get the injured back on their feet and ready, it wouldn't make much of a difference. Weapons they had, ammo they now had plenty of, but manpower they did not. Four people weren't going to make a difference against such a large Covenant force.

But they were Helljumpers, and they never had it easy. Their _job _was to face impossible odds and somehow prevail. This was no different from any other mission they had been on. They'd just have to improvise.

A com channel opened up to the Captain through his helmet. It was First Lieutenant Freign. He had been on the far side of the hill that overlooked the Covenant encampment.

"What is it Lieutenant?" inquired Rappart.

"Sir, we've got some movement down there. Seems those bastards are preparing to mount an attack. They've gathered troops up and are loading them into Shadows, Spectres, and a few Ghosts. They have yet to move their Wraiths. Looks like they're keeping them on defense. I'm guessing we can expect an attack within the next three hours."

"Good job Lieutenant. Keep me updated on any movement," he ordered.

"Heinrich, have you managed to get in contact with any other UNSC forces out there?"

After processing current troop movements, the AI gave its response. "Yes sir, we have several platoons of marines coming in from the west. They plan to land a few miles out from the outpost and mount a direct attack. ETA is one hour."

'Huh, maybe we have a chance after all.'

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Miles away, Lieutenant Mike McCroft was informing his troops of their final approach procedures.

"Once these birds touch down I want all weapons, vehicles, and troops cleared off in less than a minute! You will bail your ass off, grab what you can, and run! The longer the Pelicans stay grounded, the longer the Covenant have to take aim. Is that clear?"

"Sir, yes sir!" the marines yelled.

"Good, there may be hope for you yet. Heinrich, what's the current position of the Covenant troops?"

The AI analyzed what it could from its other troops. "Captain Rappart's troops have determined that the Covenant are preparing for mass offensive action against their position. The only things that pose a serious threat to your operation are the Wraiths and Ghosts covering the gates of the base, and the Banshees providing air support."

"Good, they're busy with other matters then. Men, we'll be reaching our LZ in a matter of minutes. Remember what I told you! Move fast, and make it count!"

The flight was unnervingly smooth, with no attacks, and no enemy radio chatter. It was quiet, much too quiet for any of the marines' liking.

One of the Pelican pilots turned around to face McCroft. "Sir, we have another Pelican requesting to join up with our squad."

"What? I don't have any reports on another Pelican meeting up with us later."

Stepping up into the cockpit area, McCroft took the mic and assumed command. "This is Lieutenant McCroft of fire team Delta, state your call sign and UNSC ID."

There was a good deal of static, but he was able to make out what the other pilot said. "This is Echo 142, UNSC ID 142633. I was asked to link up with you guys."

Sure enough, the call sign and ID checked out, but it still left the Lieutenant wondering…

"By who? I have no reports of anyone else joining us."

After a minute of silence, another voice came over the radio. This one was deeper, more battle hardened. "I did. This is Spartan 117, and I am joining this operation."

"Master Chief… very well Echo 142, join up behind the rest of our squad."

'Well, this should be interesting. A Spartan working with us… Hell, this won't even be a challenge now.'

A few seconds later, Echo 142 dove in right behind the other Pelicans and joined in the formation.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Above Earth, a battle was fiercely being waged. Covenant Capital Ships were engaging UNSC Carriers and defense platforms. So far, it seemed as though things were at a stalemate. The only thing giving the humans the edge they needed were their Orbital Defense Platforms, each equipped with a massive MAC (Magnetic Accelerator Cannon) gun.

So far, the human's once proud fleet of 55 UNSC Carriers had been dwindled down to 29. And out of the original 30 Orbital Defense Platforms, only 21 remained. The Covenant had taken fewer losses. Out of their fleet of 80 ships, they had only lost 24 of them.

Four more Covenant Capital Ships appeared from slipstream space, only these ended up being behind the already engaged Capital Ships.

"Admiral Hood, we've got new contacts! Four of them!" a Lieutenant in the command center of the Cairo called out.

The Admiral looked to the viewing screen. Sure enough, four Covenant Capital Ships appeared off to the right of the Cairo.

"Rotate the station 105 degrees to starboard, and prepare to fire on the closest ship," he ordered.

"Um sir, we have a transmission coming from the lead Capital Ship of the group that just appeared."

Normally Admiral Hood wouldn't have even thought about accepting a Covenant transmission, but the circumstances were different now. These were certainly strange times…

"Patch them through."

The first image that came up on the screen was that of Commander Miranda Keyes.

"Admiral Hood, do not fire on these Capital Ships! They're here to assist!"

"Commander, what are you doing on a Capital Ship? And why exactly shouldn't we fire?" the aged man asked.

"These Covenant are here to help us. I know you probably don't believe me, but there's no time!"

"…" This was a most interesting development indeed.

"Lieutenant, cancel that last order. Do not fire on those new contacts."

Admiral Hood then turned back to the view screen. "Commander Keyes, if we detect a single bit of treachery on their part we won't hesitate to put a hole through them with our MAC guns, is that clear?"

Keyes smiled, knowing she had succeeded in her part of the mission. "Crystal sir. Keyes, out."

The transmission then came to a close.

"Well?" asked Zev. "What did your superior have to say?"

"We're clear to engage the other Covenant Ships. They've sworn not to fire on us, as long as no human targets are hit."

"Very well then," Trey began, as he clenched his fist. "All ships, prepare to fire Plasma Batteries!"

Three blue lights on the holo-panel signaled that the other ships were ready to fire.

"Fire!" he barked into the com system.

Eight Plasma energy bolts launched forward, two from each ship. Because of the fact that the attacks were plasma based, rather than matter based, the Covenant shields could do very little to repel the attacks.

After sets of shields shimmered and then failed, four enemy Capital Ships disappeared from existence in a blinding flash of bluish white light.

'I'll be damned, never thought I'd see something like that in my lifetime…' thought Admiral Hood as he watched four Capital Ships explode in balls of blue plasma. The more incredulous part was that the fatal blows had been struck by _other _Capital Ships.

Now the fight had _truly _begun. The question on everyone's minds was… 'How long can we hold out?'

-Chapter End-

Draknal: Whew… that took a while to type. I tried to really catch the readers up on the events of our _other _group of heroes. Hopefully you all enjoyed it!

R&R Please! I appreciate it!


	4. Objective Sighted

Draknal: Ah, here we are for another installment of FTF. Finals made things a bit difficult as far as updating, but I managed to work it all out. I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter I've been working on!

Disclaimer: I don't own Halo or its characters, just the plot of this story and the characters I make up.

**Objective Sighted**

"Making final preparations for landing, this is your two minute warning!" called the pilot of the lead Pelican.

Looking around the troop compartment of the human vessel, Lieutenant Mike McCroft could only grin at what he saw. Each of his men looked like they were ready to leap out of their seats. The tension was building, and he could tell.

"Sir, I have news of Captain Rappart and his men," came a voice in the Lieutenant's helmet.

"Go ahead Heinrich. How're they holding up?"

The AI paused for a second, processing an answer for the commanding officer. "They have sustained substantial losses and are expecting an enemy counterattack within the next few minutes. Manpower is low, and morale is holding."

"Hn, I see." This was to be expected. Helljumpers were always sticking their necks out to do what most considered the impossible. However, he wasn't about to sit back and just watch as his comrades were killed while all he could do was stand idly by and listen to the sounds of a slaughter.

Making his way to the cockpit of the pelican he grabbed the com device and set the frequency so it would reach each Pelican in his squad. "It looks like we have less time than I thought. Here's the new plan men, we're switching to Emergency Drop Protocol Beta. All pilots, do you copy?"

The com panel in front of the officer lit up with several acknowledgement lights. "Alright then, let's prepare for a bumpy landing."

Emergency Drop Protocol Beta was known as a restricted order for several reasons. It was based around the assumption that there were no other options for making a successful landing. It was a reckless, last ditch technique that was first employed on Reach when human forces found that they didn't always get the openings they needed for careful and coordinated troop deployment.

Quite simply, it came down to the Pelicans descending to a low enough altitude so that all troops could bail out while the ships were still at moving at a high rate of speed, and all cargo being towed would be jettisoned. McCroft simply saw it as a time saver, and a way to take his men's thoughts off of the fight, and make them concentrate more on executing the maneuver correctly.

x-x-x-X-x-x-x

"Sir they're making their way around the cliff-face. Orders?" inquired second Lieutenant Freign.

The Hellumper was sending the video feed to his superior via his helmet link. Captain Rappart studied the images before him. Ghosts, Shadows, Spectres… but no Wraiths. They were taking the ODST's seriously now. They wanted that hill back, and if the humans received no reinforcements, they would take it.

"Freign, don't waste any ammo on them yet. I want you to keep an eye on our friends and inform me of any new developments, understood?" he asked.

"Affirmative sir," was the reply. With that, the link was cut and the Captain returned his attention to the rest of his men.

He could tell that some of them were worried, but they didn't show it. He had been in service for so long that he could tell by observing a person's passive actions. Breathing, where they moved their eyes, all of these helped to let him know that they were concerned for the upcoming battle.

"What is the status of our wounded?" he asked a nearby soldier.

The man held out a set of dog tags to the officer. "Garcia didn't make it sir… Needler poisoning…"

Rappart took the dog tags and held them with a clenched fist. The Covenant bastards had claimed another human life. "What of Lieutenant Bevard?"

The black armored man looked over to where the officer had been laid out. "He's stable sir, but due to his massive loss of blood, he keeps coming in and out of consciousness. He needs to be airlifted soon or he might not make it."

"Thank you, that'll be all," and with the wave of his hand, Rappart dismissed the lower ranking soldier.

The Captain walked over to where Bevard lay. Kneeling down next to him he inspected the soldier. His shoulder was covered in first aid medical gauze, and he could see where the bio-filler foam had been used. Several parts of his armor had been seared and melted by high temperate plasma blasts. In short, he wasn't looking good.

The officer let out a sigh. Maybe if he had been faster in dispatching the jackals, Bevard wouldn't have ended up like this. Hell, maybe Garcia would have made it too. Standing back up, Rappart swore that he wouldn't fail his men again. With that he walked off to where he had left his weapons and extra equipment. This was going to be one hell of a fight.

Rappart needed to do something to take his mind off of the situation at hand. Things were going to get messy, and he had to be at his best, as did all of his men. Reinforcements were en route, at least that's what he had been told. As far as _when _they would show up, that was another thing.

He at first had suspected that it would be something akin to the old movies where the cavalry would arrive just in time to save the day. But now he realized that this was _real life, _and things _never _go that smoothly.

Grabbing his M6D pistol, he began taking it apart and cleaning it. After all, a weapon is only as good as the person wielding it. He had to be sure that nothing could go wrong. Of course, he knew that the real reason he was doing this was to take his mind off the upcoming fight.

They had the advantage of terrain, as they had the high ground. They also had the weapons, but they lacked manpower. Ultimately, it would be a battle of endurance according to troops. The Covenant seemed to think that throwing a large number of troops at a problem would solve it.

Letting out a sigh, Rappart walked over to where the rest of his men, minus lieutenant Freign, were seated. Private Lavert noticed the officer heading their way and snapped to attention.

"At ease soldier," he commented, making his way to the center of the group.

He stood with his men around him, thinking of what he could tell them. The truth, that they would all die? Or maybe he could give a big speech about how they would prevail over evil and defend the human race for many more years to come. He wasn't able to think on it any more as another soldier spoke up.

"Hey Captain, can I ask you a question? And will you be honest about it?" inquired Private J. Moores.

Rappart noticed how nervous the man sounded, and decided to oblige him, giving him a curt nod.

"Well, how screwed are we? I mean, are we gonna make it out of this one?" Moores asked, looking around at his comrades, as if for the last time.

The officer let out a low chuckle. "To be perfectly honest, we're about as fucked as all the human forces that were sent to the first Halo."

The soldier suddenly found the ground very interesting, as he didn't want to see how serious his superior was being. A spark of hope remained though.

"But… what about Sergeant Johnson and his guys? They made it off. And so did the Master Chief!"

Rappart was laughing inwardly. This guy just wouldn't give up would he? He was hanging on to a fool's hope, and that hardly ever seemed to help in life and death situations. However, he would go along with it.

"Yeah, you're right. If those guys could make it off of that blasted ring, then we can sure as hell beat down a couple hundred Covenant troops," the Captain remarked. "Now get into your assigned positions. I want to see Covenant bodies dropping as soon as we get the chance."

Each man gave a sharp salute before scrambling into their designated spot. They had a body count quota to fill after all…

x-x-x-X-x-x-x

"So… any ideas on how to stop the Covenant from reaching the Ark?" came an inquiry from within the Chief's helmet.

"They've probably found it by now," the Chief remarked. "The only question is, how long until they activate it?"

The AI with him went silent for a moment, almost as if she were pondering the entire situation. "So, do you have any idea where the Ark might be?"

Spartan-117 let out a dry chuckle. "Honestly, I was hoping that you knew its whereabouts. You _are _a Forerunner AI after all."

"I don't believe they entrusted that data to _any _of their AI. By allowing AI constructs to hold onto such vital information they increase the risk the location falling into the wrong hands. The last thing they wanted was for someone to set off the rings simultaneously out of curiosity or madness."

So not even the top level AI's had been given the location of the Ark… then how did Truth know where to go? Or maybe he didn't know? He could just be taking a shot in the dark! If that were the case, the human forces had more time than they originally thought.

"Xandria, have the rings ever been activated before?"

At first, the Chief got no response. It was as though the talkative AI had just disappeared, or gone to sleep, if AI's _could _sleep. "Do you ever wonder why you don't see any Forerunners around these days?" the construct joked with a bitter tone.

The Chief mentally cursed himself. Xandria was an AI construct whose people were long gone, and nearly forgotten until their technology was stumbled upon. Such a question could bring up bad memories.

"Listen, I'm sorry about asking-"

"Don't," came the meek reply. "I'd really rather not talk about it…"

With a sigh, the Chief gave up his pursuit of this particular task. He wasn't one to push matters when it involved such painful emotions or memories. He himself was still quite sore when it came to the matter of Reach, and the fall of his Spartan brethren.

His visor seemed to dim as he lost sight of everything in front of him. Slowly, images began to pour into his mind, and he watched as colors swirled and took shape before him. What came into view caught his attention, as well as gave him a sense of vague familiarity.

The first thing the Master Chief noticed was the sheen of the metal that made up the room he was now looking at. It was the same kind of metal he had come to despise, as it was the lusterless gray and silver metal that was so commonly found making up the structure and interior of the Halo rings.

A being came into view, one dressed in a black jumpsuit that wasn't a far cry from what the human technicians of _his _military wore. The only thing signifying that he _wasn't _a technician was a set of wings surrounded by what looked like a miniature version of Halo. The man walked over to a holo console that was embedded in the far wall of the room.

Suddenly the point of view seemed to change. Spartan-117 found himself in front of the man now. Taking a moment, he studied the man. He reminded him of the late Captain Keyes. He was an older man with slightly graying hair and a few wrinkles around his eyes. His hazel eyes were calm and gave the man a look as though he were gazing directly into one's soul.

Pressing a few indication switches, the holo panel blinked a few times. The man's gaze seemed to move from one side of the screen in front of him to the other, as if reading something. The Chief could tell that whatever it was, it wasn't good news, as the officer's eyebrows were now furrowed with what looked like frustration.

"Xan, how recent is this data?" the man inquired. His voice was faint, almost quiet, but still held a tone that let one know that he was in command.

The response he received was that of, "It came within the last ten minutes sir, from squad alpha."

It sounded like Xandria. Most likely this was a log from her point of view. The Master Chief only watched on in silence as the scene before him continued to play out.

Letting out a sigh of fatigue, the man rested his head in one of his hands, which was supported by the elbow he had placed on the console. "This doesn't bode well. It's only a matter of time before they breach our defenses."

"But sir… isn't there something we can do to repel them? If you authorize it, I can begin isolating sections of the facility and enable the lockdown."

The man shook his head. "Xan, you and I both know that wouldn't stop them. Those crafty bastards would only find a way around it or come up with a way to use that to their advantage."

The AI began pleading with the Forerunner. "But Admiral Locke, surely if we buy ourselves enough time we can wait for reinforcements--"

"What reinforcements Xandria?" Locke snapped. With another sigh, the man continued on. "We can wait all we want. But we have to face facts. We can't outlast them forever, and for all we know… we're all that's left."

A mechanical hiss was heard behind the officer and another Forerunner made his way to where the older man was seated. The new arrival appeared to be a soldier, as the body armor and black helmet he wore seemed to be telltale signs. What looked like an older version of a plasma rifle was strapped at his side.

Stopping in front of Locke the man snapped to a crisp salute. "Sir, D Platoon leader reporting in."

"What is it soldier?" his superior asked, continuing to look at the monitor rather than at the man behind him.

"The perimeter seems to be clear at the moment. We believe they are regrouping for another assault."

Locke nodded before turning around the face the soldier. Standing up, he put one hand on the man's shoulder. "The end may be coming soldier. Are you prepared to make the sacrifice you swore you would, if the time came?"

"Sir, yes sir! I am prepared to lay down my life to ensure the survival of the universe from the parasite!" the soldier announced while remaining at attention.

With a small smile, Locke gave the man's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and dismissed him. Turning back to the monitor, the man allowed the smile to remain on his face a moment longer, before returning to his serious expression. "Xandria, I just want you to know, it has been a privilege, and an honor to work with an AI of your status."

"Sir…" was the weak response. "Please don't say that. This isn't the end. Not yet."

"You're right. However, we must be prepared for anything, so I will speak my mind now," he started. "You have served as our top AI for many years, seeing us through crises that no one could hope to survive. You have been the voice of reason in times of madness, giving us solid solutions when we thought there was no way out. You are truly one of a kind, and I hope you may live long and preserve the spirit of our race."

"…"

The man was acting as if he was going to die; as if there was no way to avert the approaching storm.

"Sir… likewise, it has been an honor to serve at your side."

"Xandria, it's time. Arm the weapon. I'll input the authorization code."

Taking out what looked like a small glass disc, the officer held it over the holo console. The lights on the console seemed to glow red for a moment, as did the object. Soon after, the lights returned to normal and a new announcement came from the monitor.

"Authorization code verified. Weapon is now online and charging. Time until maximum charge is three cycles and counting."

Locke dropped back into the chair in front of the monitor. "May the universe forgive us for being such arrogant fools… and for what we are about to do," the man muttered.

Things began to fade to black soon after that. The Chief thought for a moment that the log had ended, but soon things began to take shape once again. It appeared as though they were back in the "command center".

This time however, the room was washed in a red light, which came from the emergency lighting which was active. Gunfire, as well as that of plasma blasts, could be heard far in the background.

Perched in front of the computer once again was Admiral Locke. He looked extremely tired, and appeared to be struggling just to input the necessary commands into the console.

Around the room, soldiers took up defensive positions and trained their weapons on the door to the room.

"Xandria, is it ready?" asked Locke, the tiredness evident in his voice.

"Yes sir; charged and ready to go," answered the AI.

Rubbing his temples, the man looked around the room from one soldier to the next. "Well, at least it seems we'll go out in a blaze of glory, hm?"

He received a weak round of laughter. "We wouldn't have it any other way sir," was the response from one of his men.

The light moment was cut short as something impacted the door to the room. Locke suddenly returned his attention to the monitor. "Remember Xandria, preserve the spirit and memory of our people," he ordered.

"Yeah! Don't let us be forgotten!" shouted one of the soldiers.

With a loud explosion, the door to the command center was blown open. When the smoke cleared the Master Chief saw the one thing that he had come to hate more than any Covenant soldier, more than Halo for that matter. The Flood…

They came fast, and hit hard. From the small bulbous, basic forms, to the large, gangly and sickening looking possessed forms, they poured into the room. They were met with a hail of gunfire and plasma bolts, but they continued streaming in, their numbers seemingly endless.

Flood popped and went down left and right, but numbers were of no consequence to them. They overwhelmed the soldiers closest to them, slashing, shooting, whacking, doing whatever they could to fell their prey.

One unfortunate soldier was swarmed by basic forms, which each jammed their concealed stinger-like appendage into the man. With a blood-curling scream he fell and moved no more.

Locke looked up at the monitor, a frail smirk adorning his face. "Alright Xandria, it's time for your last order."

With the soldiers dispatched, the Flood turned their attention to the only remaining Forerunner in the room. They wasted no time in rushing toward their target.

"Fire the weapon!" Locke ordered.

Everything seemed to freeze as a bright light engulfed the occupants of the room. Locke could be seen with a smile, albeit one of sadness, gracing his features. Flood that had launched themselves at the man were but a few mere inches away when the light came.

After the bright flash faded, the room appeared the same as it was before, but there were no more occupants. Locke, the soldiers, and the large Flood were gone. The only sign of anything living were the small basic forms of the Flood, which seemed to run around the room a few times before departing out the blown open door of the command center.

With that, everything once again faded to black. Then the Master Chief's vision returned to him, and he could see out of his visor once more. However, he didn't know what to say. It wasn't every day that he was shown the extermination of an intelligent race.

"We were such fools…" Xandria muttered. "When we first discovered the Flood our first instinct was to eliminate them and end their race. But we didn't…"

"We figured we could use them as weapons to unleash upon our enemies. Using numerous tests we found that they grew and learned at an accelerated and unsurpassed rate. They were the perfect tool. However… we didn't anticipate them rebelling and using our knowledge against us."

That must have been where the construction of the Halo rings came from. They could be used as environments to study the Flood, as well as a place to contain them. And last, they could be used to subdue the Flood.

"We can't let that happen," the AI proclaimed. "Those rings wiped out the civilization that I had come to know as my own… and I won't let that happen again."

The Chief nodded, an unspoken agreement made between him and his AI accomplice that they would not fail. "And we'll finish the Flood too," he promised. He'd be damned if he would make the same mistake that the Forerunner's made.

x-x-x-X-x-x-x

"Sir, they have begun their advance up the hill. Ghosts in front, Spectres in back," Lieutenant Freign informed his superior officer.

Rappart sat in his position, his Battle Rifle at the ready. Watching through the live feed in his helmet, he saw that they were indeed outmanned, but not outclassed. If they weren't going to make it, they were at least going to take as many of the Covenant freaks with them as they could.

Clicking his com link over to a main channel, he took one last look around at the other soldiers with him before he directed his attention back to the oncoming mass of Covenant armor.

"It's time to show them who they're dealing with. We took this hill, and we'll be _damned _if we're going to just give it back without a fight. If anyone is having second thoughts… if anyone doesn't feel that they can give their life here and now, then speak now," the Captain commanded.

There was no response from any of his men. They all knew what being a Helljumper meant, and they were going to prove that they had what it took to earn that name.

"Alright then," the Helljumper leader began. "Let's give them a warm welcome. Switch to long range weapons and stand by."

This was it. As soon as they fired off a shot, there would be no backing out of it. Rappart knew this, and he also knew that there was no other option to begin with. The Covenant _never _took prisoners. Oh they may capture human soldiers from time to time, but they never let them live long. They only took satisfaction in watching the humans beg for their lives before brutally killing them.

He watched as the Covenant war machines slowly approached, maintaining a steady and well coordinated battle formation. The officer knew this tactic. Intimidation… a spawning tool of fear, one of the most dangerous things in a fight. Fear is poison, and once it appears, it doesn't leave until the fight is over.

Fortunately, he knew that his men were ready to lay down their lives, and take as many Covenant with them as they could. There would be no begging, no cowering, no fleeing, just carnage…

"Open fire!" Rappart barked into his com link.

At that, every Battle Rifle, Sniper Rifle, and long distance weapon erupted with a roar. Another fight had been set in motion, and with height and morale as their only advantages, things weren't looking up for the Helljumpers…

-Chapter End-

Draknal: Ah, another cliffie. Don't worry people, the next chapter is where everything that has been set in motion, will avalanche. You'll get your fighting, and a better look into the things you might not understand. Until next time!

R&R please! It's very much appreciated!


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